


All Roads Lead To Perthshire

by Writeonthrough (Schroederplayspiano)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Angst, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schroederplayspiano/pseuds/Writeonthrough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of interlaced oneshots capturing Fitzsimmons' past, present, and future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Meaning to the Name Fitzsimmons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I'm so excited that I will be updating this fic more consistently from now on! xoxo.

After a year of dating and six months of being engaged, it finally happened. Fitzsimmons were irresponsible. Together.

Jemma looked down at the pregnancy test in her hands. For the first time, the S.H.I.E.L.D. base bathroom seemed like a very public place. She never understood before how private pregnancies felt before. 

For a reason having very little to do with the new person growing inside her, Jemma suddenly felt the urge to throw up. She lunged for the toilet and disposed the contents of her breakfast. 

Fitz was the one who pointed out to her how often she buried her feelings instead of expressing them. Jemma wondered how many feelings she was burying right now as she threw water on her face.

Before she could stress at the responsibility of bringing new life into the world, Jemma’s first coherent thought was how a new meaning was going to be brought to the name Fitzsimmons. The life inside her was truly going to be a part of her and a part of Fitz - parts that would be impossible to separate or take away from each other.

When Jemma looked up in the mirror, a huge smile was on her face.

Knock, knock at the door. Jemma froze. Panic soon replaced the smile. Frantically, she searched for a place to hid the pregnancy test. Without any options, she shoved it in one of Fitz’s deep sweatshirt pockets and held the cotton closer to her chest. 

Knock, knock. “Jemma? You in there?” Fitz’s voice came through the door.

Jemma took a last look in the mirror; watching herself inhale and exhale. “Yeah. Coming.”

“You okay? Bobbi said - ” Jemma opened the bathroom door mid-sentence. Fitz took in the sight of her, smiled, and continued, “Said that you weren’t feeling well.”   
Jemma reached for him and pulled him inside the bathroom. For a spilt second, Fitz held a ‘this is kind of strange’ expression, but lost it when Jemma pulled him into a hug and closed the door behind him. 

His reassurances were in his embrace. Fitz didn’t need to say anything. Jemma guided them down to the floor and reluctantly pulled herself out of his arms. She ran her fingers over his stubble. 

Fitz leveled her with his eyes. “What’s wrong, Jemma?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. A tear fell down her face. “Nothing at all.”

Fitz tucked his chin in disbelief. “Then why are you crying?”

More tears fell from her other eye. “These are happy tears, Fitz.” A wide grin spread over Jemma’s face. She lowered their foreheads together. “I’m happy, Fitz.” 

He squeezed her shoulder. “Well, then, I’m happy too.” He did feel happy. Fitz felt happy and knew Jemma was happy despite his still confused state.

No further explanation came. 

Fitz adjusted his hold on Jemma and lifted his forehead from hers. “Got any more words about your happiness you’d like to share?”

Jemma wiped her tears away with two brushes of a finger. “Not this second. I want to be with you for a moment more.”

“Ok.” Fitz pulled Jemma into his lap while they sat on the bathroom floor together. He inhaled the smell of her hair (a scent reminding him of lilies) and pressed a kiss into her small curls. “I love you, Jemma.” 

He had said exactly what Jemma wanted to hear. She pulled away just enough to meet his gaze. “I love you so much.”

A smile teased Fitz’s lips and he raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Still?” 

“Yeah.” Jemma matched his smile and nodded. “Always.” 

Fitz cupped her cheeks as her smile grew. When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, Jemma told him. “I’m Pregnant, Fitz.”

Fitz’s smiled dropped off his face. He blinked as the information processed through his thoughts. Suddenly, an even larger smile grew back. “Yeah?”

Jemma leaned in for a kiss. When their lips met, it felt different than all their other previous kisses. It felt deeper to Jemma, softer too - a promise and commitment that was never there before. When they parted, Jemma knew Fitz had felt it too. “Yeah,” she assured him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Roads Lead To Perthshire came about over a weekend when I was flooded with drabble requests on tumblr. I am so excited to continue capturing moments in the Fitzsimmons relationship. If you have a prompt or a scene you'd like me to write, please let me know in the comments and I will be happy to write it and include it here.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Naked in Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of interlaced oneshots capturing Fitzsimmons' past, present, and future.

Fitz hated to run, especially when there was the potential for black ice on the ground on a night such as tonight, but it was too cold for a casual walk back from the lab to his dorm room. 

Heat warmed his senses as soon as he pulled the heavy dormitory door open. He unzipped his jacket and reached for his orange and blue checkered tie as he found his way to his own dorm room door. 

Fitz paused. There were three empty bottles of beer awkwardly resting against the bottom of the door. Empty bottles that were certainly not there when he left.

Looking around the hall, he didn’t notice anything particularly out of the norm or suspicious. Still, he entered his single room with more caution than usual. 

There was a cry of protest when he flicked on the overhead light. Fitz snapped his attention to the noise. 

Simmons was naked in his bed. 

Naked.

In. His. Bed. 

Suddenly there was a weird buzzing in Fitz’s head that had nothing to do with the fluorescent light. 

“Fitz! What the bloody hell are you doing? Turn that damn light off!”

He stumbled back to the doorway and managed to hit the light switch, but not before noticing the curve of her bare shoulder and back. 

If he was smart (in an another way besides the genius-rocket-scientist one, thank you very much), he would have thought a little bit more more approaching a naked Jemma Simmons in his bed. 

As it was, he stomped towards his bed, towered over her and said, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” 

Jemma blinked back his harsh tone. “I am not naked in your bed! I’ve got my bra and knickers on!”

“Oh - oh! And what - what? - You think there’s a difference?” Fitz stumbled over his unease. “What - why - why are you naked in my bed?”

“Ugh, Fitz!” Jemma exclaimed before pulling the covers over her head.

If it was possible, Fitz stepped in closer, towering over her even further. “Simmons.” He tried very hard to control his tone. “What are you doing in MY BED?”

Jemma threw the blankets back over the bed, uncovering her torso and revealing a pink laced bra. She added a bit of uncharacteristic drama as she said, “I am a bit drunk.”

Fitz couldn’t help but drink in the slight of her. She had freckles scattered across her chest and stomach. Her breasts were bigger than he imagined (not that he often imagined her breasts), and her creamy skin tone was even more beckoning now that he could see a larger percentage of it. 

Jemma caught his mesmerized eyes. “Ugh, Fitz!” She exclaimed again before jumping out of his bed (and stumbling back a little). Ignoring her stumble, or not realizing it, she bent down to grab her shirt.

Fitz tried a different approach. “And drunk lab partners are always invited to seek refuge in their fellow lab partners’ bed,” he offered sarcastically. 

“Good.” Jemma pulled a shirt over her head. “Glad we clear that up.” 

Once she had a shirt on, Fitz felt more comfortable touching her. He grabbed both her arms and forced her to look at him. A slight brow raise was all Jemma needed to know she had to spill. 

She rolled her eyes. “There was a party a few doors down from here. I got too drunk to walk home…plus some guy was having little too much of a thrill taking my clothes off, so…”

Fitz felt himself flinch. 

“It’s all good. I slept part of it off until I was so rudely interrupted by you-”

“This is my dorm room!”

“No matter. I think I can make it upstairs now.” Jemma unclasped his hands from her forearms. Her long, curly hair brushed past him as she spun on foot from his room. “Goodnight, Fitz!” She cried with a little smirk from the hall.

Fitz stood there, mouth open and gobsmacked, unaware that Jemma had taken his blue checkered shirt. It would be the first of many clothes items she would steal from him.


	3. A Pesto Aioli Prosciutto Sandwich

Nothing was working. Jemma cut the bread in front of her as if it was fried steak rather than a soft baguette. The jar containing her homemade pesto aioli spread would not open, so she slammed it against S.H.I.E.L.D.’s countertop, hoping she would find success. 

Of course she didn’t. 

But that was her luck these days. Ever since returning from Hydra - no, actually, - ever since being thrown deep into the ocean, nothing seemed to be going her way. 

Ignoring the jar that wouldn’t open, Jemma reached for the prosciutto and began placing a couple of slices on one side of the baguette. Merely the smell of the meat conjured up Fitz’s smile in her mind. 

How could she let it get this bad between them? Jemma never could have imagined their relationship ever being as fractured as it was right now. They were the team who finished each other sentences; the team who read each other minds. Now? They were two individuals who seemed to have forgotten the cliché saying of the word team. 

Jemma let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and reached for the mozzarella. As she spread it around, a sudden realization came to her: She didn’t know if she was making the sandwich for Fitz as yet another peace offering or for herself as a simple thought of Fitz rather than the present’s complicated reality. 

As she reached again for the jar that would not open, the complicated reality himself walked into the kitchen. 

Both of them froze - not in fear of the other, but in fear of themselves.

Fitz somehow managed to speak first. “I-I, uh, smelled the prosciutto.” 

Jemma couldn’t help smirking. “I bet you did.” 

A genuine smile and a glint of hope radiated from Fitz’s face for the first time in months. “You making m-me a sandwich?” 

In some part of her mind, for some reason, Jemma was irked by the gall of his assumption. She was not sure if the smile was still on her face or not, but it soon became clear she could not find a verbal response. 

Fitz stepped closer. “You know,” he started casually, “O-one of my hands still works pretty good. I could o-open your a-aioli for you.” 

Jemma’s hand unconsciously found the jar. She tottered it around on the counter as she stared at him. 

Fitz spread his open hand and offered it to her. Before she knew it, she had plopped the jar into his palm. He twisted it open with one hand effortlessly. 

She nodded a ‘thank you’ and spread the sauce over the second bread slice. Once the two slices were together and the sandwich was complete, Jemma looked back up at Fitz. 

His deep blue eyes watched her intensely. 

Confusion overwhelmed her senses. It was her, now, who was at a lost for words. 

As she matched his stare, Fitz managed to cover the sandwich with his own hands and claim it as his own. 

Fitz’s naughty smile broke their trance. Before Jemma realized what had happened, Fitz was already halfway to the door.

“Hey!” she called after him. “I was gonna eat that!”


	4. Alone In Her Room With The Door Shut

Fitz had followed Jemma to her room after a casual dinner together on the base. After two weeks of officially dating, tonight was the first time they had ended up alone in her room with the door shut. He felt like a immature teenager for noting their milestone, but he couldn’t help it. 

“HA!” Jemma slammed the book closed. “It was Gerty Cori! I told you!” 

Fitz rolled his eyes. An old dead scientist was the last thing he wanted to be talking about right now.

Jemma plopped the book on the nightstand and adjusted the pillows on her bed before leaning back against them. 

“She discovered how glycogen is converted in the body. Isn’t that interesting?” She glowed at her new realization. “I love how she was a woman!”

“Jemma…” 

Jemma’s smile faded as she noted the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. It was that heartfelt tone Fitz kept only for her; it was that look he saved only for her. 

She was suddenly aware of what Fitz was minutes ago: they were a new couple alone in her room for the time. Their minds reestablished their psychic link. 

A twinkle formed in Jemma’s eye and she gave him a sly-knowing smile. “Come over here and kiss me.” 

Fitz froze. “What?” 

Jemma tucked her chin and her expression turned serious. “Kiss me.” 

Apart from some deep (and wonderful) goodnight kisses, they had not reached the casual kiss or full on make-out stage in their new relationship. Jemma challenged Fitz with a stare until he rose from the swivel chair and approached her bed. 

He sat on the edge of it and his hands found her hips. Jemma sat up and rested her arms on his shoulders. Fitz looked at her for a moment, as if asking permission, before leaning in. 

Their lips met once, twice, before connecting more deeply. Jemma leaned further back into her pillows, silently inviting Fitz to follow. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet were off the floor and he was lying on top of her. She adjusted her position under him as her hands made their way into his hair. 

Fitz couldn’t breath. For several reasons, he suspected. Knots tied tighter in his stomach the more Jemma pressed her body to hers. 

He kissed her until he had to stop. When he broke free, Jemma continued kissing him; his cheek, his forehead, his neck. 

“Jem - Jemma,” Fitz managed. Jemma pulled back and looked longingly into his eyes. 

Her look made it worse. He was at a loss for actions, at a loss for words, and on the brink of losing whatever control he had left. 

Jemma broke from of their trance and her sly smile reappeared. “Bet you’d do anything to go back to me rambling at Gerty Cori now, wouldn’t you?”

Fitz shook his head. _No, he never want to go back to anything before he had this moment with her._


	5. Sunrises and Snowflakes

Small snowflakes danced outside the Scottish window. Sunbeams added a sparkle to the flakes as the sun rose over the hills. Jemma breathed in the peppermint tea that was keeping her hands warm. There were so many smells she had forgotten since her time on the planet; peppermint was definitely one of them. She closed her eyes and lowered her nose to the teacup so the smell could take over her senses. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had given them a week off for the holidays. After adjusting to being back on Earth and focusing on Will’s rescue mission, Jemma didn’t realize how much she needed to go home. Her lips upturned and a blush warmed her cheeks at the thought. She was in Scotland with Fitz - and yet, she called it home without realizing it. 

Jemma had told her parents what she could of her six-month traumatic experience without sharing much of the details. They all agreed it would be best for the family to accept Fitz and his mother’s invitation for them to spend the holiday with them in Scotland. 

Fitz couldn’t be more delighted Jemma was spending the holidays with him. It was their first holiday together. Since their time at the academy, Christmas was only week they always were apart from each other. Jemma was surprised at how right it felt to be in his home for the holidays. She felt more comfortable here than she would have in her childhood home in England. 

A sun beam caught her eye and Jemma’s gaze returned to the snowy hillside. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, relieving tension she didn’t know she was carrying. A stair creaked behind her and she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Jemma smiled to herself and leaned against a bookshelf to make room at the window for Fitz.

Jemma whispered, “The sunrise is extra special this morning-”

“Because it’s the first snow.” Fitz finished for her. 

“Yeah…” Jemma glimpsed at Fitz for the first time that day. He wore blue and white stripped pajama bottoms with a long sleeve white top. It was impossible his short hair to be messy, but it was obvious he hadn’t brush up before he came down to find her. 

She also a notice a small blue box with a red bow in his hands. “Fitz…” was all she could say. 

He offered the box to her. “I got you something.” 

Jemma took the box without looking at it. Her gaze was glued to Fitz’s as deep feelings rose to the surface and overwhelmed her. “I did too but your gift is under the tree,” she motioned to the next room, stumbling over her words. “I mean, thank you.” 

For a moment, they stood at the window together, watching the snow flakes sparkle in the sunrise. The overwhelming feeling in Jemma didn’t leave her insides as she slowly turned from the sunrise to the man standing next to her. 

Oh, how she wished there weren’t a thousand unspoken layers between them. How hard would it be to skip over the start of a romantic relationship and pick up in the middle?

Fitz gave a small laugh to her serious expression. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

His question broke Jemma’s deep thought. “What? Now?”

“Yeah…” He nodded in encouragement. “Now.” 

Jemma did not even have to take the beautiful hand-tied bow off to open the box. “Oh, Fitz…” She could hardly contain the love she felt for him as she stared at the sliver snowflake necklace. “It’s beautiful.”

She didn’t notice his longing expression as she brushed her fingers over the sliver snowflake. When her fingers unconsciously found the chain, she lifted it from the box. 

Jemma surprised Fitz when she motioned for him to help her put it on. He took the two ends of the chain as she pulled back her hair for him.  
 Once he closed the clasp, his hand rested on her shoulder. Jemma lifted one hand to the snowflake pendant while her eyes slowly found Fitz’s. 

She thought she wasn’t going to able to breathe. 

Fitz slowly bent down and kissed her cheek. His lips linger on her skin for a long moment. “Merry Christmas, Jemma,” he whispered in her ear.


	6. Graduation Eve

The colors on Fitz’s tie were more vibrant than any color I had seen all day. I don’t know why that was an important observation to me, but it was. Our empty academy lab was lighted by horrible fluorescent lights and the grey walls matched the color of my shirt - which, by the way, I was never wearing again. 

I tore my eyes away from his tie pattern just long enough to watch the minute hand on the wall clock turn to midnight. We had done it. We had made it to graduation day. Fitz and I were now the youngest graduates from the academy in - Did I really just forget the record we were breaking? How long have we been in here and, more importantly, when could I leave?

“Come on, Simmons. We still have work to do on the night-night gun.” 

My eyelids fell at the name. “We are not calling it that, Fitz.” 

He slammed the instrument before me, the sound startled me and my eyes flew open. “Yes we are. We are when we’re done with its finishing touches.” 

I don’t know if it was the alarm from the slamming or the frustration from being locked in here for twelve hours, but I finally found the energy to stand on my feet and slam my palm on the table. “Fitz! There. Are. No. More. Finishing. Touches. Stop delaying the inevitable! You’re just-”

“I am not scared of graduating and I am not scared going out in the field!” He raised voice quickly turned to a mocking one. “I am scared of the night-night gun not working for our first mission with our new team members - whoever they might be!”

My palms raised and spread to each side of my body. “Ugh, Fitz!” I exclaimed. “Stop lying to yourself! You had that thing in prime working condition four hours ago!” 

I watched Fitz freeze and his mouth hang open. _Of course I knew the exact moment he had finished. And, yes, of course, I stayed with him anyway._ I hoped my raised eyebrows and unimpressed expression conveyed my thoughts aloud because I certainly wasn’t -

“And you stayed with me anyway?” 

\- Going to voice them aloud. 

If I listened really closely I could hear how touched he was under his judgmental questioning. “Didn’t you have a graduation party you wanted to go to? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

I still didn’t have any words. Amused at his half-concern, half-judgmental-looking-after-my-best-interest expression, I shook my head and felt a small smile appear. 

“Simmons?” He did not share my amusement. 

His stare down made my head stop shaking from one side to the other. I shrugged. “You’re here. I wasn’t going to celebrate without you.” _'Where else would I be?’_ felt too direct. So, yeah, I’ll just leave at celebrations. 

For the first time in twelve hours there was complete silence in the lab. Fitz swallowed. “Tell me a secret.” 

I pulled back from our workspace. “What?”

“Tell me I’m not paranoid. Tell me you’re just as scared to go in the field as I am.” Fitz focused on one of the empty flasks and flicked it until its vibration made an echo. “Tell me it’s not just me who’s afraid of what happens after tomorrow.” 

My breath caught. Our eyes finally found each other. “It’s not just you.”


	7. Not How It's Supposed To Be

Fitz watched Jemma from across the lab. He convinced himself she was avoiding him. She had been back three months from the planet and he had felt more distance between them than ever. 

He still couldn’t believe, after everything, that their relationship had ended up like this - working 200 feet away from each other in the same lab, having nothing left to say.

For the first two weeks after his return and the news of Will’s death, Fitz felt like he was doing the right thing in giving Jemma space to grieve. Now, the choice to give her space felt like a decision to end all substance between them; one they couldn’t come back from. 

Fitz always felt they could come back from anything. What made this time so different? Deep down, Fitz knew it wasn’t even Will keeping them apart anymore. So, what was it then? He had thought about it too much to not know the answer. 

He sighed. As he exhaled, he surprised himself to hear a hint of anger in his outgoing breath. Fitz shook his head and returned to his work, determined to finish something that day.

It wasn’t clear to him whether it was hours or merely minutes before Jemma rushed over to him and took the pencil from his hand. “What the hell?” Now, there wasn’t just hint of anger in his voice. The anger dominated it. 

“We need to talk.” Jemma stated, matter-of-factly. 

“You know we can talk,” Fitz grabbed his pencil back. “Without you making a scene for the whole lab.” 

“Fine.” Jemma did not lose her determination or flare. “Let’s go then.” 

She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him out of lab, into the hallway, and soon in the direction of the agents’ private rooms.

“Jemma!” He protested their direction. “What the hell are you doing?” 

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she tugged his sleeve harder, opened the door to her room, and shoved him against it.

He caught the fire in her eyes for a split second before her lips landed on his. He attempted to protest her actions again, but she clung to him tighter. 

“Hmm-oh! Jemma!” He said the moment he was able to break free. Fitz’s hands were already on her shoulders and he used their location to push her back and create distance between them. “What has gotten into you?”

“I am sick of this!” Following his lead, Jemma dropped her hands from his body. “I am sick of us not talking - not being us! This is stupid!”

Fitz narrowed his eyes at her. “So you thought thy way to solve that was to - what? Make a scene in the lab and then fling yourself on me?” 

“Yeah! Why not? You certainly weren’t doing anything to fix things!” 

Fitz tried to release the tension and confusion on his face, feelings he knew were showing, but he couldn’t let go of. Her behavior was so out of character, Fitz wondered if Jemma had a beer or two at dinner. 

Before he could find a retort, Jemma shared, “I miss you. I know you miss me.” She leaned in for another kiss which Fitz tactically avoided. “I have no idea why you’re avoiding me.” 

“Avoiding you!?” Fitz pulled back even further. “I am not avoiding you. You have been avoiding me for at least a week!” 

“That is not true!” Jemma lost some of her flare and found a way to compose herself. “You made it clear that you wanted to give me space-”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of being the perfect guy? Because I am certainty tired of you always doing the right thing. Can’t you do what you want to do? Just once?” 

Fitz noticed the desire in her eyes and knew they must be a reflection of his own. He kept her gaze for one more moment before his eyes found her lips. Then, he knew he was a goner. 

He shoved her against the door and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Jemma deepened their kiss and reached for the bottom of his shirt.

“Jemma!” Fitz said against her lips. He placed his hands over hers to stop her advances. “Come on…” 

“Please.” Jemma begged him to continue. 

There was a sadness in shake of his head. “You know this is not how it's supposed to be between us. We both deserve better than this. We shouldn’t have to fight to connect.” 

Jemma’s heart broke just as his did. She knew he was right. Worse, she agreed with him. 

Fitz adjusted his shirt before finding the door knob. “We’ll figure it out, Jemma. I promise you. Just - not like this.”


	8. The Jolt of FZZT

You’re the hero.

Jemma’s words echoed in Fitz’s mind just as the touch of her lips lingered on his cheeks. He was the hero. Deep down, he knew Jemma was right. He was as much of a hero as Ward and Jemma wouldn’t be okay if not for him. Until she said them out loud, however, he didn’t realize how much he needed to hear them…

He needed to hear them from her.

Since when did he need her explicit praise? Since when did he need her by his side, safe, where he could keep his eyes on her? He couldn’t remember a time where he felt hollow because she was always there. Jemma was always there, safe, beside him the whole. damn. time. He would look to his right and there she was. 

Except today.

Today, a glass wall separate them. Today, when he regained consciousness, Jemma was falling out into the sky, away from him. To be gone forever. Today, Jemma was not beside him when he looked to his right; she was out in front of him - falling to her death. Today, she wasn’t safe. Today, she wasn’t beside him.

Except she was.

They fought for her life together. Side by side, keeping each other going. Fitz tried to remind himself that side by side was how it always was between them. But he couldn’t. The other half of his brain won. Today was different.

Images from the day - Was it only a day that had passed? Fitz was sure two or three days must’ve gone by since they discovered a floating body in midair and when Jemma jumped out of their plane - passed through Fitz’s mind. There were so many they overlaid each other. He didn’t know how long it was before he realized they were all of Jemma.

The redness in her eyes as tears from near-death experiences - one after another after another - ran down her face. Jemma’s hopeful smile when they worked together and found the cure. The fire behind her expression as they argued. The way her wavy ponytail fell over her white collar and blue sweater… 

A jolt of energy bolted Fitz from his crouched position when he conjured up the image of Jemma’s ponytail and her blue sweater with a white collar. He sat up and registered the pillow he was holding. Was Jemma’s hair always in a ponytail? Was it always that long length? He couldn’t recall physical details from any memories of their time together at the Academy. Why was that? Why had he never noticed - or remembered - any of her physical features before? Was his default stuck to chase after her mind, never stopping to appreciate or even to look after her physical presence?

What if she’d been sick before and he never noticed?

Another jolt ran through Fitz’s veins. Jumbled thoughts (since when were his thoughts ever jumbled?) about losing Jemma and never noticing Jemma and losing Jemma and how pretty she looked and her smooth skin and her wavy long hair and her blue and white sweater and losing Jemma.

Somewhere in the middle of his racing thoughts, Fitz fell back on his pillow. As sleep took over his reflections the last thing he remembered was the lingering touch of Jemma’s kiss on his cheek.


	9. One Week Anniversary (Part 1)

“We’ve never done this horizontally before,” Fitz managed to observe in between kisses.

Jemma stroked his facial hair, running her fingers down his cheek and angling his face back to her lips, “No, we haven’t.” She said the words into his mouth before plunging in for another kiss.

Jean fabrics rubbed together as their legs curved around each other on the couch. Jemma proceed to run her pointed toe down his thigh until their feet intertwined once more. Fitz deepened their kiss by tightening his arms around the small of Jemma’s back.

“Mm—I thought we were having an important talk.” Jemma pulled back to pour over Fitz’s longing expression.

“This is important,” he declared before capturing her lips once more.

Jemma returned his kiss with fervor once, twice, and before she begun to sink into his embrace, she stopped herself. “Ugh, Fitz. Using kissing to avoid talking is still avoiding our problems.”

Fitz kissed her cheek and proceeded placing kisses down her neckline. “We have no problems, Jemma. I am perfectly happy at the moment. I would like to continue being happy by kissing you.”

Relishing in his love, Jemma took a moment (or two) to straighten out her foggy thoughts. She pushed herself up on the couch, and placed her palms on his stubble-covered cheeks. “I like your stubble. That’s another change that happened when we were apart we never talked about.”

“I’m glad.” He said shortly, leaning in again.

She restrained him. “It makes you much hotter.”

Jemma had found a suitable distraction for him. He raised his eyebrows, “Hotter? As in you thought I was hot before?”

Her lips couldn’t help upturning. “Yes. You were very cute.”

“I was cute? Like this is my little monkey, cute?”

“No. Like this is my little lion cub, cute. And now,” She ran her thumb over his cheek bone. “You’re my lion man.”

“A lion man?” He asked, not sure if the analogy was any better.

Jemma avoided any further explanation. “Well, do you like my shorter hair? All you said was that it was different—”

“I like your hair.” Fitz stated matter-of-factly and gave her a quick kiss.

“I’m thinking of growing it out again.” Jemma searched his gaze (which was focused on her lips rather than her eyes). “What do think about that?”

“I think…” Fitz reached up to run his fingers through Jemma’s curls. “I think I know better than to debate a woman’s appearance. I think you’re beautiful no matter what. As long as you don’t cut it all off and go for the bald look, I’ll be happy.”

“Huh.” Jemma never imagined that. She’d have to find a bald cap one day to give him a fright. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” He ran his hands over the length of her backside, pressing their two bodies closer. “Can we go back to kissing now?”

Her smile spread as she leaned down to capture his lips. She ran her hands over the rest of his stubble and into his hair. Fitz, meanwhile, sunk deeper into the leather couch—bringing Jemma down with him—making sure the couch’s depth would prevent her from pulling up anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I'm so excited that I will be updating this fic more consistently from now on! xoxo.


	10. One Week Anniversary (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And picking up several moments and many passionate kisses after the last chapter...

“Oh, hey!” Jemma lifted her head from its resting spot on Fitz’s chest. “Happy one week anniversary.”

Fitz shifted his position on the couch from watching the Doctor Who episode on the screen to his girlfriend cuddling in his arms. “People celebrate one week anniversaries?”

“Well—” Jemma thought for a moment before a smile broke on her face. “I didn’t mean celebrate, like make a big deal or anything, I just meant time has rushed by this last week with you…I didn’t realize today marks a week we’ve been together.”

“Oh,” The creases on Fitz’s forehead smoothed. Jemma noticed the sparkles in his eyes return. “Well I knew that. That’s one of the last things I thought last night and my first clear thought this morning.”

Jemma’s creeping blush heated her cheeks. “Are you saying I’m the last thing you think of before you sleep and the first thing you think of when you wake?”

Fitz’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well—” His gaze bounced all around S.H.I.E.L.D.’s common area, trying to make sense of the astonishment on Jemma’s face. He then blinked, regained his confidence, and turned his attention back to Jemma. “Yeah.” Fitz reached out tuck a free hair strand behind Jemma’s ear. “That wasn’t supposed to be news to you.”

Her chest tightened with the her inhale. Unaware of holding her breath, Jemma watched the wonder in Fitz’s eyes, felt the stroke of his fingers through her hair, and swore she heard the beat of his heart in his chest. Or—maybe she heard her own heartbeat, as it took in his words in a different way than her head did.

She exhaled into his mouth as she leaned in to kiss him. All her tension dissipated when she felt Fitz’s strong arms around her, pulling her into him. Her lips captured his top lip before brushing down to suck his lower lip. Fitz ran his hand down her side, letting his pinky slip under the hem of her shirt. He moaned in pleasure, kissing her back, until she broke from him.

“Ugh.” The moment ended to soon for Fitz. “For the record, that seemed like a perfect one week anniversary present to me.” He bulged his eyes at her. “And you just cut it short.”

Jemma gave him a soft smile for an apology. She brought her hand to his cheek, letting her fingers brush over his scruff. “For the record, you’re the last thought I have at night and the first thought I have in the morning.”

“Ok.” Fitz stared blankly at her. “Good.”

“You are.”

“Yeah,” Fitz’s face brightened with a smile. “You see, that isn’t news to me-”

“Ugh, Fitz—”

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “But it’s always nice to have it confirmed.”

“Uh-huh.” Jemma shook her head at him. When his smile only brightened further, she slid from his chest, turned her back to him, and rested on her side to redirected her attention to Doctor Who.

His hand sneaked around her and before long Fitz was pressing kisses into her neck. “I think I should be able to enjoy more of my anniversary gift.”

“All in good time,” Jemma interlaced their fingers and brought them over her chest. “All in good time.”


	11. Rooms at the Base

“It’s that one,” I touched a lone freckle on Fitz’s chest. “There.”

He looked down at his naked chest. “That’s your favorite spot?” He raised his eyebrow, dubious. 

“No.” I waved him off. “Not my favorite spot. Your cutest spot.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay…”

“Fitz!” I propped myself up from resting on his shoulder. I pulled the bed sheets higher as I adjusted my position. 

Fitz ignored my hesitation and reached his arm across my back to pull me back to him; sheets falling down as I did so. I smiled against his chest and inhaled his scent.

His fingers brushed over my shoulders blades and across both shoulders as we lay in silence. I squeezed around his torso before extending my neck for a kiss. 

I loved our casual kisses. Mostly because it took us so long to reach the casual kiss stage. Heated kisses and long kisses and french kisses were still thrilling after six months; but there was something about our casual kisses that meant something more to me. We had made it. We were comfortable and secure enough with each other that we knew the casual kiss was a beginning and not an ending. 

Fitz disrupted the silence, “Do you think we’ll ever go back to sleeping in our own rooms?” 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. Never.” Fitz ran his hand over my shoulder and down my arm, finally linking our fingers together. “I just…You and me are taking up two rooms in the base when we’re only using one.” 

I now pulled back for a completely different reason. Surprise must have spread all over my face.

“Too soon?” Fitz backed tracked. “Yeah, too soon. Forget I said anything.” 

“No.” I didn’t think I could fall deeper in love with him. But, there was something about his insecurity that I found charming, but had too reassure at the same time. “No, not to soon. I love that idea.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a smile and leaned in to kiss me. This kiss was not a casual one. Soon, I was moving over him, never breaking our seal, as our limbs entangled and our tongues met. 

I don’t remember flipping over, but sometime later, Fitz was on top of me. I pulled him closer, tightening my embrace around his bare back. 

Excitement started to overwhelm me and it was only half to do with our intensifying make-out session. I pulled back from Fitz suddenly.

“What—”

“I have to go,” rushed from my mouth. I bent over the bed to reach for my bra and knickers.

“What—“ I clasped my bra and stood up. “No, come back to bed.” 

“Fitz! I have to go!” A huge smile spread on my face before I kissed him. “I have to start packing! We’re moving in together!”


	12. Give Me A Hand

“I don’t see why Mack is asking you to build a S.H.I.E.L.D. robot.” Jemma approached the garage to see her boyfriend hard at work. She kicked a supply box closer to him before jumping up on the counter. “It is seriously taking away from our together time.” 

Fitz scoffed. “Our together time? You’ve been out on missions three times this week.” 

“That’s work.” 

Fitz adjusted the wrench in his hands and used it to point to Jemma and then back to his pile of wires and scrap metal. “So is this.”

Jemma bit her lip and focused on her heels which were now banging against the cabinets beneath her. Fitz tore himself away from staring at her to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“You know, if you came and helped me, we could get to our alone time a lot quicker.” 

“Oh!” Jemma wiggled her eyebrows at him. “You want me to give you a hand on your engineering project just like old times, do you?” 

“Yeah.” Fitz exhaled deeply and dropped his shoulders. “Come give me a hand.” His forehead creased when he noticed her searching the counter rather than shooting a dirty look. “You lookin’ for a wrench?” 

“No.” The clanging noises continued until Jemma untangled the object she desired from the wire mess. “I’m giving you a hand.” 

A prototype robotic arm flew in Fitz’s direction. He caught it before realizing what it was. Once he did, he shook his head at her. “Funny.” 

“Hmm. I thought so.” 

Fitz continued to shake his head until he stood and placed the robotic arm on the work bench. As he approached Jemma he teased, “What am I going to do with you?” 

Jemma’s dangling legs reached for the back of his knees and her feet pulled him closer. “You are going to kiss me senseless until you’re convinced you don’t have to work on this project anymore.”

“Okay,” Fitz said into her lips before capturing them


	13. The Most Romantic Night in Jemma Simmons' Life (Up to that point, anyway)

“Simmons! Simmons! Simmons!” Leo Fitz’s repetitive banging did not move her out of bed any faster. Jemma turned to the bedside alarm clock, anticipation growing as the numbers flipped from 2:59 to 3:00.

If she was honest with herself, the real reason she waited a minute longer than she needed was for the sheer thrill the growing panic in his voice produced. 

The knocking stopped. Jemma breathed in the moment’s silence only to realize she missed the sound of his voice.

“We’re going to miss it!” The banging resumed and covered up his panic.

She still had no idea what he was going on about. It didn’t matter. She pulled the covers over her mouth to cover her smile and took a moment to relish the warmth of her blankets, before kicking them off and letting the cool morning’s air seep between her cotton pajamas. 

“Ugh Fitz!” Jemma hugged her arms to her chest to battle the morning’s frigid air. She open the door to find Fitz dressed in his heavy coat and knitted hat. “I thought we talked about you over dressing for late night calls to my dorm room.”

If Fitz caught her insinuation, he rushed over it, raising the large telescope to her eye line and shoving rolls of star maps in her arms. 

“What the-”

“We. Are. Going. To. Miss. It.” He repeated. Before Jemma could ask questions, Fitz turned from her and walked straight to the closet.

“Sure…Make yourself at home.” 

Hangers screeched across a single rod as he searched for Jemma’s warmest jacket. When it was found, Fitz wrapped it around her and slid her boots from her bedside to her feet.

In two distinct movements, she gaped down at her boots and then up at him. “What are we going to miss?”

“The stars! Simmons. We can’t miss the stars!” 

“Yes. They’re there every night, Fitz.” Despite her indifference, Jemma pulled on her boots. "Did you really just knock on my dorm room at 3am for this?” She motioned to the rolls of star maps. 

“Let’s go, Simmons!” He ignored her again, rushing past her and out of the room. 

Simmons raised her arms and threw her head back the moment she was alone, cursing the disruption to peaceful (and warm) sleep.

“Simmons!” 

Jemma hurried to catch up with him. Soon they were on the edge of the Academy’s campus; walking over blankets of frost that covered the hilly field. She walked several paces ahead before realizing Fitz wasn’t beside her. 

Fitz had the telescope halfway set up by the time Jemma turned back to him. 

A knowing smile spread over his face. “Look up.”

“Oh, my-”

Stars were falling all around them. Jemma leaned her head back as far as she could as an attempt to see every star in the night sky. The twinkling stars seemed formed a dome around them. It encapsulate them together as if they were performing just for them. Although, logically, Jemma knew Fitz had taken her to see a meteor shower and the dome actually curved over billions of people; it felt like Fitz had surprised her with a private viewing to the greatest show in existence. 

It was the most romantic night in Jemma Simmons’ life.


	14. That's What Married Couples Do

“Fitz, Come on…” Jemma rolled her eyes as she struggled to pull her right boot all the way up her leg. “We are not having this conversation again.”

“Again!” Fitz exclaimed in horror. “We never had it the first place!”

As Jemma reached for her left boot, she wondered how seriously she was going to take his request before the matter was settled once and for all. Because - there was absolutely no way her husband was actually considering -

“The Scottish government gave me special permission,” Fitz stopped his pacing when he was front of her. “The government itself said me,” he emphasized his next words, “Of. All. People. They gave me special permission to raise a monkey! To take it home and raise it!”

Jemma slammed her left heal into her boot. “No. Fitz,” was the final words she gave before exiting their Scottish cottage bedroom.

He was half an inch behind her, determined to follow her throughout the cottage until he heard a reasonable explanation. “It’s not like we don’t have the space! We have the whole cottage to ourselves, and all its grounds. Plus - You know I can take care of it - and I don’t understand why you’re being like this! You know a pet monkey is something I’ve wanted since - I don’t know - forever!” Jemma turned on her boot heals to face him. There was a weird mixture of empathy and annoyance on her face. Fitz sighed, “Why do I feel like a kid asking a parent for permission?”

“Because. Just in this moment - You. Are. A. Kid. Asking. A. Parent. For. Permission.” Jemma gave him a serious look before turning back towards the kitchen. 

Fitz’s eyes brighten with a new idea. “You know, if had brought the monkey home, instead of asking you first, you would have had no problem with it!” 

Jemma snorted. “You keep telling yourself that.” 

“Why won’t you even engage in a conversation about this? A serious, adult, conversation?” 

“Because, believe it or not, I don’t actually want to fight with you. And that’s what our serious, adult conversation - about monkeys - would be.”

Fitz scoffed. “That’s what married people do! They fight!” 

“No, Fitz!” Jemma slammed her palm on the marble counter. “Married people do not fight about whether or not to bring home a pet monkey!” 

“Give me one reason,” he pleaded.

Jemma looked up at the ceiling, scouring through her brain for a reason her husband would accept. “I like our cottage the way it is! You and I worked hard to to make it as charming as it is! A monkey would muck it up!”

“A. Monkey.” Fitz took a step towards her, sliding his hand across the counter as he moved. “Would only add to its charm!”

Jemma sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. She placed a palm on his cheek, “I love you very much, you know. And maybe if your office wasn’t filled with research monkeys, maybe we could have a serious conversation about it. But as it is, I am all for you feeling the monkey love when you’re at work. At home, you’re going to have to settle for the Jemma love.”

A smile finally formed on Fitz’s face. He reached out and placed his arms around her waist. “The Jemma love is far from settling.”

“Good,” she said, extending her neck for a kiss.


End file.
